Rendezvous Berlin
by lyo24boi
Summary: Sequel to 'He's Coming Back' - Isaac travels to Europe in search of his brother who, up until recently, he believed to be dead.
1. Chapter 1

**| Rendezvous Berlin |**

"_Isaaaaaac!"_

Isaac awoke with a startle and a jerk as the plane touched down at Charles de Gaulle. He felt sweat perspiring at his hairline, the desirous summon still haunting him two sleeps later. He looked over at Colette, magazine still in hand as the plane began to near the terminal.

"Sleep well?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the words on the page.

Isaac didn't answer, leaning forward to collect his things back into his backpack. He shoved his jacket in first, slipping his headphones and bottle of water in after in a not-so-delicate, almost frustrated sort of way.

"I take that as a no," Colette remarked, looking quite relaxed in her seat as the plane came to a halt so the ramp could extend and connect with the plane.

Isaac glared up at her before leaning back into his seat and unbuckling the belt around his waist. She looked at him sharply, challenging him to say whatever was on his mind. The werewolf only glared back at her until the sign above them _binged_ and the seatbelt sign went off. Immediately, _clacks_ all throughout the cabin could be heard and people began to stand, rummaging around and engaging in conversation with other members of their parties.

The blonde French woman next to him stood up and grabbed her leather book-bag from the overhead compartment before stepping back to allow him to get out in front of her. The pair departed as slowly as the rest of the passengers, having to stop and wait now and then for some family or some passenger who was, of course, a beat behind everyone else. Once they found their way off the ramp, through the terminal, and passed customs, Colette finally spoke again. "Are we not talking still?"

"I'm just going through some shit," Isaac said rather gloomily.

"You could have stayed," she offered.

Isaac shook his head.

"You still love him, no?"

"I do. I never stopped. I just…I love my brother, too. I need to find him." 

"So cheer up, sad wolf. We find your brother. You go home to your love."

"If it were only that easy," Isaac mumbled, thinking back to the pictures he'd seen around the apartment.

Of course Scott had moved on…and he should have. Isaac had been messed up beyond repair—at least _he_ thought so. Guilt and loss were two very powerful emotions, and when combined, form a very dangerous emotional and psychologically damaging, all-consuming cocktail. It was only until a month ago that something pulled him out of it. Some new piece of information found its way to him that renewed his sense of purpose, that drew him out of his lethargic hole that was even too consuming that made even taking his own life too much of a task: Word had come that Camden was alive after all.

…_some few hours later after arriving in Berlin by high speed rail…_

"Remind me again why we didn't fly right into Berlin?" Isaac said as he and Colette stepped off the S-Bahn at Hackescher Markt. He looked groggily through the clear glass ceiling, the dark night sky the only thing noticeable what with the obstructing lights.

"Paris is a holy city for hunters," Colette offered. "And I needed this," she said annunciating her intention towards the duffle in her hand by raising it once.

Isaac glanced at the motion, noting the duffle bag he hadn't seen until they were in Charles de Gaulle. He glanced at her, Colette smirking at him before walking down the stairs to the street level. After passing through Brussels and Cologne, their ICE train stopped at Spandau and, for them, finally at Hauptbahnhof; from there, it was a mere few stops to the plaza.

"So, this is where we're meting your contact?" Isaac asked when they stopped in front of a small Italian-style restaurant.

"Mmhmm," she acknowledged, looking up at the 'Osteria Tarantina' sign hanging above the entrance. She crouched down and lifted three things out of the duffle: two wired gloves and what appeared, on its face, to be a 9mm.

"Are those necessary?" Isaac said, looking from her, to the restaurant, and back to her, his eyebrow raised and a slight smirk on his face.

"Are you going to ask questions or do you want to find your brother?" she said pointedly, throwing the duffle back over her shoulder.

"Fair enough," he said, flicking his hand down as his claws popped out. Together they walked shoulder-to-shoulder towards the restaurant, clearly closed at this point in the night. Colette, however, knew the tricks around any locks and forced the door with ease, leaving no trace of any forced entry. They crept through the peachy-orange front of the house, the staff gone by now. Colette led them into the back and towards a particular wooden door that appeared to have not been open for some time. However, with a single tug, it creaked open.

Isaac immediately heard movement and Colette fired a round into the darkness. The seeming-omega was expecting a gunshot to resound throughout the restaurant, and even into the street, yet clearly the mercenary he'd hired had been wielding something far more sophisticated as it shot and electrified dart-like device square into the chest of an oncoming werewolf. They stepped around, entering further into the darkness, Isaac's golden eyes providing little light for his guide, the infrared abilities of them certainly suffice for him.

In but a few steps they were forced to walk down a short wooden steep staircase, leading them underground as the ground declined further and further as it curved. After a few moments, they found a grated doorway which Isaac was forced to remove with his superhuman strength. A few steps up and they found themselves into another hallway, which Colette followed into an abandoned office basement, where they found—through another door—an underground club. Smoke. Music. Dancers. It had the aura of being something found in an eastern European club where nothing good could come out of it except the seven deadly sins.

"Colette," came an accented voice from the side as they stopped a few feet beyond the door. The blond woman turned to see a man she clearly recognized, smiling at his rugged and scarred face.

"Michel," she greeted, pronouncing it like 'Michelle' with a French twist.

"How are you, my dear?" he asked, stepping up to her as they exchanged physical greetings.

"Busy," she answered, mildly jerking her head back towards Isaac.

"I see, I see. Are you looking for Jurgen?"

She nodded, glancing slightly to her right as two very tall and buff men walked beyond the crowd and towards the three at the entrance. "_Herren_," she acknowledged, her grip tightening on her custom firearm.

"Madame Dráme, Jurgen is expecting you," one of them announced, ready to apprehend her should she make any sudden moves or even make a run for it. However, she only nodded and motioned for Isaac to follow, the werewolf glancing at Michel once before tailing the three bodies through the crowd, his nose picking up on all sort of foreign smells—generally and species-wise. They followed through the mosh to a guarded door, and from there through a second guarded door where they found a man behind a desk with two bodyguards standing at ease behind him.

The dark brunette man behind the desk—who Isaac presumed was this Jurgen—was clean shaven with a comb-over that was obviously covering for some visible balding spots. His left eye was clouded over, and as Isaac focused in closer, he realized the eye was fake. But more stand-out than Jurgen was the bodyguard to the man's right: Isaac could recognize the face of Jackson Whittemore anywhere.


	2. Chapter 2

**| Part 2 |**

"Colette, my dove," Jurgen began in a thick German accent, standing behind his desk and throwing his arms out before clasping them together. "How are you, how are you?"

"Busy, Jurgen," she answered with a flare of attitude.

"I hope it is good business," he answered, looking expectantly.

"Productive only if my money is ready," she answered back, gripping her gone ever so slightly more.

"Now, now, we would not want to embarrass your guest, would we?" he said, picking up on the subtle motion. She only smirked back at him and, after a slight stare-down, the German put up his hands before him and grinning. "Still as feisty as ever, my dove." She rolled her eyes as he reached under his desk, Colette's heartbeat speeding until he rose back up with a metallic briefcase. "Your turn," he challenged, not yet revealing its contents.

She started to reach into her bag when Jackson's audible whisper entered Isaac's ears clear as if he were standing right next to him. "Lahey."

"Jackson," Isaac replied, equally as quiet, catching Jackson's gaze from across the room.

"Long way from Beacon Hills," he continued, his tone almost a question.

"A lot's happened," the taller man only said.

Jackson didn't say anything at first, leaving Isaac to wonder how much he knew about their former circle over the last several years. Isaac had had some difficulty keeping tabs on things, Argent filling him in when he became informed himself, and Melissa, bless her heart, called him every once in a while (although Scott didn't tell her much so that was limited as well). "What're you doing in Berlin? Derek kick you out?" Curiosity answered.

"Not quite," Isaac said, stopping for a moment, contemplating whether he should fill him in on a few things, or just keep it business. "I'm looking for my brother."

"I thought he was—"

"So did I."

"Supernatural?"

Isaac only nodded. "What're you doing here? Last I heard you were in London."

Jackson shrugged almost unnoticeably. "Pay's good," he admitted. "Jurgen prefers the protection of the supernatural and my pack…well it didn't work out with them."

"Never thought you woulda' fit in anyway," Isaac said with a smirk. Jackson couldn't help himself but pop that asshole-smirk as well, Isaac noting that it hadn't changed one bit.

"So, Mr. Lahey, is it?" Jurgen said, smiling up at the curly blonde. Isaac froze for a split second when his focus shifted back to the task at hand; he nodded and took a step forward, his body stiffening a little. "My dove has shown me the photo you received. I do not know this man, but I do see the resemblance. The city behind him, that is _Bukarest_ in _Rumänien_. Colette, here, knows this. But the man with him, that is why you are here. That is Barış Kızılok, a werewolf I would like not encounter ever again. A gangly, nasty sort of man with a temper that gives him a taste for blood. And the other man, who they are speaking with, that is Pitti Dubnic. He is one of the oldest werewolves I know. A Romani alpha and my friend for many years."

"Where can I find these two men?" Isaac asked.

"Kızılok is a hired-fang—his allegiances change often. But Pitivo, you can find him on the outskirts of _Bukarest_, in the ghettos of sector five. Walk into the slums, walk amongst people, and his pack should find you easy enough. If you decide to see him, you must bring two things, though: the first, you must bring your barren soul. Pitivo is a man of many worlds and many lives…he will want to see your heart."

"And the other?" Isaac asked, unimpressed and unenthused to meet such a superstitious man.

"A bottle of scotch," Jurgen answered with a smile.

Colette smirked but Isaac remained unimpressed, but still task-oriented. "And knowing your friend, what kind of scotch would he enjoy the most?" But as soon as he asked the question, his eyes immediately fell upon a half-empty bottle of Johnny Walker Black on the display to the right and Isaac immediately had his answer. "Thank you for your help," Isaac said, turning to leave.

"One more thing, _Herr_ Lahey," Jurgen said, forcing the younger man to turn only his head to face him. "I know of your history. I know of the Hales. Where you come from. Of _your_ 'true alpha.'" Isaac wasn't sure how much the man was telling him he knew, but he decided against pressing it—favoring waiting and seeing. "The hunt you are beginning: it is nothing you have encountered in California. This is 'Old Europe,' _jungen Wolf_. Here, in the darkness, lies all the magic and monsters and horror you have only ever found in your fairy tales. Now, find your brother and return home to your alpha; I believe your guilt has kept you from him long enough punished you sufficiently, no?"

Isaac's face furrowed, stepping forward once towards Jurgen again to press the matter when Colette stepped towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder to shepherd him out of the office. He wouldn't budge at first, clearly bothered by the personal insight in part of the other man, but one cautioning motion from the other bodyguard—the other _werewolf_—behind the strange man. His eyes flashed blue and Colette took that as the sign to press Isaac further, using her second hand to pat the man's stomach before pressing against it. Isaac peered over at Jackson and his former school-, team-, and packmate's face cautioned against any further action. The questing wolf resigned and allowed Colette to guide him back out into the club. They made to leave, Colette a little more hurried, not even stopping to bid Michel farewell. But as they got to the club's entrance, a hand grasped onto Isaac's shoulder, pulling him around.

Isaac turned to meet his disturber with yellow eyes and fangs, claws at the ready before he realized it was Jackson. Immediately, his features reverted and the adopted Whittemore son only smirked at him, clearly unimpressed. "It's only me, Lahey," Jackson started before glancing at Colette. "Jurgen has a request."

"What is that?" Colette asked amusedly and skeptically.

"He wants me to go with you," he answered after looking back at Isaac.

"Go with us?" Isaac mused, his tone just as his hired help's. "Why—"

"There's an errand I need to run, that's all you need to know."

The pair eyed him carefully, Isaac holding his tongue as Jackson's heartbeat seemed to indicate that there was more to it than just the errand. "Fine," Isaac agreed, the other werewolf only barely noticeably relaxing, his naturally blue eyes contracting from their dilation. Colette tapped Isaac on the arm after looking Jackson over and led them from the hidden underground establishment.

"Have you been to Bucharest before?" Colette asked their new companion as they made their way back towards the S-Bahn.

"Once," Jackson answered. "With Jurgen. We had some business in Budapest and he decided visit this Pitivo character."

"You've never met him?" Isaac asked.

Jackson shook his head, his skin twisting awkwardly against the tight black collar of his shirt. "I stayed with the taxi."

"You are in for a treat, both of you," Colette added, grinning.

"Why? What's he like?" Isaac said.

"Old Pitivo is a story teller. Most gypsies are, but Pitivo is a master amongst them."

"Do you think he can help?"

"We will see. He is very cryptic man and his stories even more so. But knowing Pitivo, and his reach across Europe…Jurgen has steered us right."

…_later that night on the next train, this time headed for Bucharest, Romania…_

They'd been sitting in silence—a somewhat awkward silence—since Colette fell asleep in their compartment. Isaac sat on the same makeshift sofa as the mercenary, her head fallen back against the wall and the top of the seating, while Jackson sat across from them, both young men staring out the same window into the darkened sky. With as many years at it had been, it was no surprise to either of them, and even more so given their animus relationship when they first knew each other.

"Can I ask you something?" Jackson finally said, not tearing his eyes away from the mobile scenery in their sights.

"Shoot," Isaac said, doing the same.

"When you got upset at the end of the meeting, when Jurgen said some weird things to you…what did he mean?"

"You really haven't kept in touch with Beacon Hills, have you?" Isaac pointed, bringing Jackson's dimly lit face in his sights.

The dirty blonde looked at him guiltily before looking back out the window. "Not really. Didn't really feel the need to."

"Lydia?"

Isaac's senior-beta only shrugged. "After I moved, she wanted to let me go properly. We didn't know when we'd see each other again…_if_ we would…so we never contacted each other. And Danny…that was probably my fault. The end of that summer after I moved, that was probably the last I heard from him. I didn't…yeah, I didn't respond to him. Forgot." His heart skipped and Isaac's face showed that he knew the boy across was lying. "Okay, I didn't want to, honestly. I wanted to let it all go. I even moved out of my parents' flat within a few months."

"You moved out or they bought you a place?" Isaac mused, smirking.

Jackson only shook his head and snorted. "Fine, Lahey," he said with a smirk, taking the jab. "So what's your story? Why was Jurgen being so cryptic?"

"I don't know all of it, to be fair. I left before Thanksgiving that same year. I…" But Isaac found himself unable to bring out the words. For so long he'd been working on burying it…forgetting it. That tale of his last few months in Beacon Hills…it was everything to him, and yet it was the most painful.

"What?" Jackson said, noting the obvious pain in the curly blonde across from him.

"It'…like I said before, a lot's happened. I…" Isaac took a deep breath and closed his eyes, willing his throat and eyes to keep it together just this once. "I'm not in Europe just because I'm looking for my brother. I moved to France so I could forget everything, mostly the night Allison died…"


	3. Chapter 3

**| Part 3: Interlude |**

When Isaac finished his tale, Jackson had moved from his relaxed position to sitting forward with his forearms resting on his knees and upper thighs. Isaac had told him how the pack of alphas Derek had told Jackson about actually came. He told him how two of them tried to ensnare Danny and Lydia, while Erica and Boyd died in the ensuing craziness of their arrival. He told him how Gerard was still alive and was still for all he knew, how it was Argent that had basically confined him to their apartment. He told him of how the war between Derek's pack and the hunters had evaporated with the arrival of the Alpha Pack and the _darach_, how Argent and Allison had become their greater allies in the struggle.

And then he told him how Lydia was revealed to be a banshee and how Derek gave up his alpha powers to save his sister and the two of them left to return to Peru, and how, at the same time, Scott had ascended to become a true alpha in the fight against the 'dark oak.' Jackson shifted uncomfortably, clearly taken aback and slightly irked by the news of Scott's further rise of prowess. _That's who Jurgen's been talking about every time he's mentioned the 'true alpha.'_ Isaac filled him in about the dark ritual Allison, Scott, and Stiles performed concerning the _nemeton_, and told him that ever since Beacon Hills has been changed in unknowable and dangerous ways. And Isaac took a chance, telling Jackson that after the death of Jennifer and the disbandment of the Alpha Pack, that he and Scott actually got together.

"You and McCall?" Jackson had mused very high school-like, his eyebrow raising and an almost cruel smirk widening across his lips.

Isaac had ignored him, explaining that Derek had already kicked him out, that he'd been living with Scott and Melissa, and that even before then he'd felt a kinship with Scott since he'd first become a werewolf. When he moved in, that's when things—his feelings—started to morph into something deeper and intimate (and as he was explaining all this, Isaac was struck with two things: the first, he was surprised at himself, that he was elaborating on his feelings for Scott to Jackson, the one person who could and likely still did hate Scott McCall. And second, at how quickly and powerfully his emotions for the wondrous boy returned, stricken like a match suddenly set ablaze. He still loved Scott. He'd never truly let that go, but he'd buried it. And now, suddenly, it was back with incredibly force!).

Isaac explained how Derek came back and started serving as Scott's mentor and Deaton for Stiles, training him as a druid. But things were all wrong and his—Isaac's—and Scott's relationship got put on hold, the darkness from their ritual coming between them and affecting their two friends as well. And he elaborated on the awkward and then new girl Kira, who joined their pack as a _kitsune_. He talked about the twins and his distrust of them (which, since Aiden's death, he'd let go and later explained that to Jackson when he got to that part). And he explained the strange attacks by the _oni_, and how they were looking for a dark spirit, a _nogitsune_, which they found in Stiles.

And that's when his story quickly became stuck in the base of his throat. At that point, they were communicating as old friends and Jackson was having no holds on the gripping story. He urged Isaac to continue, even offering some comforting words and a sympathetic face. Isaac eventually continued and explained how, while he himself had been rendered unconscious by this possessed Stiles, Scott and Lydia freed Stiles of this spirit temporarily before its avatar kidnapped Lydia. And when they went to rescue Lydia, it seized control of the _oni_. And when it seized control of the _oni_, it attacked, in force.

Isaac paused there, flipping back to how Scott had placed Isaac on a sort of guard detail on Allison. How, despite the odd triangle of past and then present relationships, Scott still cared enough about Allison despite his love for his then boyfriend. He explained that Isaac grew to truly consider Allison a friend, and that despite being forced together under bizarre and awkward circumstances, he wanted to protect her as part of their pack regardless.

So when the _nogitsune_ assailed Allison, Kira, and himself outside the old internment encampment, and he faced certain death with only Scott on his mind, and how Allison had saved him with her silver arrow, her violently and bloody stabbing was a blow to a piece of his psyche and his heart. He, with great struggle, explained that it had happened right in front of his eyes, and that she died in Scott's arms whispering her love for him in her last words. Isaac quickly moved away from that after a moment of reliving the horror in his mind. He moved on to the _nogitsune's_ defeat and Aiden's death and Ethan's departure.

And that's when he left, leaving with Chris for France to bury the captured _nogitsune_ in a safe secluded location under the hunters' protection and to escape the nightmare land that plagued him. Jackson wanted to ask about Scott, clearly okay with them as Danny had been his best friend once. But Isaac answered before the question even verbalized. He described that he had been screwed up immensely with the loss around him: his brother, mother, father. Erica, Boyd, Allison. Even Aiden. And with the exception of the former two, how violent and unnecessary they'd been. And so, despite his love for the true alpha, it wasn't enough to keep him from falling into the trap where, at the time, nothing could prevent him from sinking into his self-learned isolation combined with immense and total loss, guilt, and nightmares. In a way, his mind had built its _own_ protective freezer around himself.

Isaac ended explaining that in his saner-clearer moments from his lethargy, he accepted news from back home. Chris had provided the bulk of what little he received before he returned temporarily. His former enemy had returned with news of the dead pool, of Kate's apparent return (and that she'd never died), of Peter and Derek's deaths, and of Scott's two new packmates—Malia and Liam. Isaac had spoken Liam's name with haste and ill-conceived disgust, though Jackson didn't push it. He figured things from there.

Isaac explained that Melissa kept in touch with him now and then, but that it was awkward and had been reduced to email over time rather than their former Skype sessions. He explained that he'd faked his death to escape even further, from the remaining tethers in the form of Chris, Melissa, and those supernaturally-aware friends he'd made in Paris. But then, when only two days later, the picture of Camden's likeliness appeared under his new door in Amsterdam. That's when he decided to give Scott hope that he was still alive, as Isaac had found his own renewed hope and drive for life.


End file.
